


To Be Young With You

by bamboozledbylife



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Backstory, F/M, I picked Kikyo's last name at random I'm sorry, Silva is a fuckin idiot but what else is new, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-03-24 05:22:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13804314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bamboozledbylife/pseuds/bamboozledbylife
Summary: He should’ve listened to his father.When he’d been told, “Meteor City makes a sewer look nice,” it wasn’t a joke. It was even a bit kind.16 year-old Silva Zoldyck decides to see Meteor City for the first time with his own eyes, and finds more than he bargained for in the form of 14 year-old Kikyo Tanaka. He decides that she must come home with him, but she isn't sure she wants to leave.





	1. Chapter 1

He should’ve listened to his father. When he’d been told, “Meteor City makes a sewer look nice,” it wasn’t a joke. It was even a bit kind. The dust swirled over the decrepit buildings, suffocating and gritty. The air was foul, the stench overwhelming. Too many people, too much garbage, too little water. You could smell it almost two miles off. Between the sand and the smell, suffocation almost seemed preferable.

These things were awful, no doubt. But he was _Silva Zoldyck_ , heir to his family’s “business,” and he had seen much worse.

Well, not quite. To be honest he hadn’t _smelled_ much worse than this. Rotting corpses seemed like daisies compared to _this._ But he wasn’t one to be overcome by something as trivial as a smell. A horrible smell. A disgusting, terrible, vomit-inducing… He was getting off track. But the worst thing about Meteor City? The worst thing about Meteor City was the heat.  
At age 16, Silva could withstand millions of volts of electricity, every torture technique invented, every poison known to man. He could easily lift enough weight to crush any normal human. He could even use nen, something almost no one knew existed. The one thing he’d never been able to tolerate? The heat. 

He felt like he might melt into the ground beneath his feet. Every step forward was tinged with regret. He’d seen it now, experienced it now, he could leave at any time. Yet something compelled him to stay. No use going somewhere new and not talking to a single person. It’s the best way to gather information about a place like Meteor City. Who knows when he'd have another chance to come here? Hopefully never.  
He stuck to the alleyways, darting from shadow to shadow (because he was an assassin and that is what assassin’s do, NOT because he was so very, very, hot.) He was quickly approaching a large throng of people, vibrant and loud despite the godforsaken heat. He stopped once he was close enough to get a good look at the crowd. This appeared to be a marketplace. It was very similar to most markets he’d seen, albeit shoddier. Dozens of people hurriedly went about their business. Groups of children, orphans probably, sat on the sidelines and waited for someone to get careless. The sounds of spirited haggling carried far.  
Various “vendors” were strewn about on the road. These mostly consisted of one person sitting on a ratty mat, inspecting the quality of trash brought their way. Sometimes there was also a child sitting watch over the wares already traded for, like some kind of emaciated guard dog.  
A handful of the vendors had make shift stands. These were made out of various pieces of tin and scrap metal stacked together to form several display shelves. Some had poles and a tarp drug over the top, a light barrier from the sun and sand. Usually these stands had food, or various articles of clothing. Something that set them apart from the recyclers. As he observed, people also made their way in and out of several buildings in the surrounding area. Now that was interesting.  
If food and clothing are barely a step up from trash, he wondered, what could possibly be in there? He’d just have to go inside one and find out.

As it turns out, there wasn’t really anything interesting. The first he visited, a short stocky building, maybe 400 square feet inside, was a doctor’s office. An older couple worked there, the man running the front, the woman dispensing the medicine. None of it was very good, generic painkillers and the like. Plenty of bandages, but nothing he would let anywhere near an open wound. It was worthwhile to note that no one payed in any sort of currency. Everything was a trade, either for goods now, or services later. Besides that, there wasn’t anything particularly interesting inside.  
The second building was slightly less disappointing. It was probably twice as large as the first, and the inside was almost disconcertingly cool. Several men were standing around, probably bored out of their minds. Their clothes were of a decent make, much better than anything to be found around here. Silva wouldn’t say they were much cleaner though. They all had a phone and a gun, but it was questionable if either worked. People occasionally came and left, but no one entered more than once. This was obviously a mafia hub. A convenient place to pick up cheap workers. There was nothing but idle chatter in here.

This experience had quickly gone from miserable to boring, which somehow, was worse. Leaving seemed better and better with every second. But he still hadn’t bothered to have a conversation with anyone. A _real_ conversation. You never know what’ll come in handy, or when. It’s not like knowing a little about the locals was ever bad. _One more shop, and that’s it,_ he decided. He was certainly no quitter, but even he had limits. Thankfully there was only one place left to go.  
He had actually saved it for last, since it seemed the most promising. It was about the size of a garden shed, since it only housed a staircase. He had seen nobody enter or exit, but it seemed open nonetheless. As he approached the shack, he could see a name carved on the wall. In crude letters it read _Tanaka Repair Services._ Now this was a real puzzle. _Why would they even bother with a sign? How many people in Meteor City can read?_ It struck him as suspicious, but there was only one way to really find out. He’d have to go inside.

The stair case led about 25 feet down in all. It ended at a hallway with an odd tin floor. He was sure it would’ve been incredibly noisy for anyone, but himself of course, to walk on. There was a single door opposite the stairs, a sheet of unidentifiable metal hanging on rusty hinges. The walls and ceiling were also cased in tin, and the whole passage was dimly lit by hanging lamps. Odder even than the tin cave were the lamps. They had light bulbs. Ones that _worked. So they have electricity in here huh?_ Thinking on it, the only other place he had seen with electricity had been the mafia hub. It had had a single generator running two fans. _Probably why the men inside had guns._  
Any answer to be found about the lightbulbs, and the writing, would be found further inside. The hallway was actually rather short in length. It took him 3 strides to cross it, and there he was at the door. He put his ear up to the door to see if he could hear inside when a voice broke the silence.  
“Come inside or leave.” The voice was young and feminine, and more than a little demanding. He was stunned. His thoughts raced, _how did she know I was here? Can she sense nen? Is this a trap? Should I leave now?_  
“What are you deaf? Or just stupid?”  
_Fuck it._  
He pushed the door open, ready to start a fight whether the speaker was dangerous or no. He wasn't ready for what he saw. The inside of this room was well lit, and all stone. There was a desk made of wood inside, and a single girl sat behind it. This girl, apparently the owner of the demanding voice, was _very_ creepy. She was small and skinny, malnourished like everyone else in Meteor City, but that wasn’t it. It was her eyes. Firstly they were huge, secondly, they were black. Pitch black. Not completely of course, but it was like she only had pupils, no irises. Worse was, despite, nay, almost because of it, she was gorgeous. Just stunning. Once you got past the fish eyes. He was confidant he could get past the fish eyes.  
“Do you have an appointment?” The sound of her voice snapped him back to reality, and he remembered why he’d come in here just a moment ago.  
“Depends, do you have any manners? I could’ve been a customer for all you knew.” She just blinked at him with those giant, creepy eyes.  
“If you aren’t a customer, you can leave now.”  
“I never said I wasn’t a customer.” He tried to sound indignant, but it was closer to a whine. This prompted an eye roll from the girl.  
“Then do you have an appointment?” She stared at him pointedly, already knowing how this would end.  
“Yes, I do have an appointment.” _Why did I say that? What’s wrong with me?_  
“What’s the name.” She was clearly not buying into his charade.  
“That’s none of your business.” _Why did I say that?!?_  
“Then leave. Now.” _Shit. Give her a fake name._  
“Uhh never mind that, the name is, um, Silva…no?” _Perfect._  
“Was that a question Silvano?”  
“No, that was my name. Which is Silvano. And I have an appointment.”  
“Then what’s the last name.”  
“I don’t have one.” _So far so good._ Then the girl had the audacity to laugh at him. Her laugh was cuter than he would admit, but he was still mad. “What’s so funny?”  
“You. Trying to pretend you have an appointment when you don’t even have a last name? You’re barely worth laughing at if you don’t even have a last name.”  
“Oh yeah? What’s your last name then?” _This girl sure was lucky she was so pretty._  
“Tanaka. You know, like the sign outside? Oh wait,” she giggled a little, “don’t tell me you can’t read either?” He was positively fuming at this point. _Who did she think she was?_  
“How dare you speak to me like this. You think a fucking _Zoldyck_ can’t read?” _Oh, damn there he goes. No one was supposed to know he’d been here but his father. Well she’d just have to die now. Whoops._  
“So you do have a last name then, huh? Not sure why you lied about it earlier, but you still don’t have an appointment, Silvano Zoldyck.” Her tone was matter of fact, but she was grinning a little now. It was a pretty smile, he decided. It would be a waste to kill her. He could work something else out.  
“If you’re going to kick me out for not having an appointment, you could at least tell me your name first. Since you know mine and all.” There wouldn’t be any records of this girl by virtue of Meteor City, but he could at least ask around with her name.  
“Kikyo. Kikyo Tanaka. Now leave, I’m busy.”  
“Fine, fine. But first, could I make an appointment?” 

After a few minutes of discussion, an appointment was made for two weeks out. Plenty of time to figure out how he was going to deal with her. Too bad he didn’t even know what he’d made an appointment for.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silva figures out what Kikyo's family repairs, sort of

He returned two days later. He had learned three things about Kikyo. One, she was the 14 year old daughter of repairman, Itsuki Tanaka. Two, Itsuki’s wife Wakana, Kikyo’s mother, had succumbed to lung rot about four years ago. Three, Kikyo had two older sisters, Sachiko and Hana. Hana was 19 and Sachiko was _older_ , but no one had known how old older really was. To his frustration, the one thing he _hadn’t_ learned was what they actually repaired. Which is why he was here now, back in the tin hallway. 

So many questions, so little answers. This morning he stopped to look closer at the hallway. The tin was bizarre, he couldn’t even begin to think of a reason for it. It was bolted into all four sides of the hall, and looked old, but well kept. _Who actually cleans this? Is that what they repair?_ He scuffed one of the bolts on the floor with his foot absentmindedly. He briefly considered pulling up a corner to see what exactly the tin was bolted into, but decided against it. Most likely it was the same stone as the interior room.  
Speaking of which, the interior room brought up more questions. How big was this shop exactly? In the past two days not a single family member had came or left, so evidently they lived here as well. He had searched the perimeter, but he hadn’t found another passage to the surface. Of course he could just dig down, but that plan had too many issues. The best course of action, he’d decided, would be to see what information he could get out of Kikyo, and then come back at night. Sometimes the most obvious plan was the best one, and what was more obvious than going in the front door?  
He did have the appointment, whatever that was. 12 days was a long time to wait though. Especially if it meant hanging around in Meteor City for all that time. His father was always telling him patience was vital to the job, but he’d done just fine this far. Considering this wasn’t even about his job. Mostly. Deciding how to deal with Kikyo was a little about his job. HIs father’s voice echoed in his head, _no loose ends Silva, never compromise the family_. He _should_ kill her, but he’d already decided against it. She was just some little Meteor City reject, she could know whatever she wanted.

The opening of the door reminded him where he was. His head snapped up as the door opened. He saw Kikyo poke her head through, her confused expression clear as day. _How is she so damn quiet?_ He should’ve been able to hear her long before she’d opened the door.  
“You sure like the hallway, huh?”  
“What’s the tin for?” He wasn’t sure how long she’d tolerate his conversation today, so he might as well get to the point.  
“No hello? That’s pretty rude, Mr. Zoldyck” _Mr. Zoldyck_ , he didn’t like that very much. Not that he wasn’t used to that kind of formality, it just seemed wrong from her.  
“Sorry about that. But I’d prefer you used my first name.”  
“Alright. You’re pretty rude Silvano.” _Silvano? Oh right._  
“I already said sorry.”  
“And?”  
The ensuing silence was heavy. The sudden awkwardness wasn’t lost on him. He was quickly beginning to realize his, er, _social deficits._ Killing people was his forte, but talking to them? Not so much.  
“Heh, okay. Let me try this again. Hello Kikyo, what is the tin for?”  
“Hello Silvano. It’s sort of a long story. Come inside and I’ll tell you.” She ducked back through the door. This is good, he smirked a little to himself, very good. He waked inside, bending a little as the door frame was very short. She was seated behind the desk again, a well worn book pushed to the side. The cover was mostly torn, and as he reached for it to get a better look it was snatched from his reach. He quirked an eyebrow at Kikyo, who was holding the book protectively to her chest.  
“Don’t touch my things.” He nodded his head.  
“Noted.” He still wanted to know what the book was about, but _damn was she fast. She really only gets better._  
“So, about that tin?” She glared at him, putting the book back where it had been.  
“It’s to protect the costumers and the wiring. It-“  
“Sorry again, but wiring?” _Why in gods name was he apologizing so much?_ She furrowed her brow, glaring at him. It was more cute than intimidating.  
“Interrupting is also rude, but I _guess_ I accept your apology. The wiring is what brings electricity to the lights. It has copper inside and-“  
“I know what wiring is. I meant what are you protecting it from?” A small twitch in her eyebrows and the clench of her fists let him know where he stood. He wanted her to finish her story, but all of a sudden he was only thinking about how she might be in a fight. She was scrawny so she couldn’t be _that_ strong. Although she was very fast, and she did live in Meteor City. He was certain she’d be able to hold her own in a fight. Maybe not against him, but still. Not that he wanted to fight her or anything. His interest was more analytical than anything else. Of course it was.  
“ _Anyways_ , we have to protect the wiring from people, duh. Copper goes for a lot around here. There’s a layer of tin between the stone and the wiring, and then another layer of tin between the wiring and costumers.”  
“Okay, so what are you protecting the costumers from?”  
“If you’d let me talk, you’d know that already. There are these worm, things, that can burrow through stone. They’re mostly just annoying, but they can really mess you up if you’re not expecting them.”  
“They can get though stone, but not metal?”  
“They eat the stone. They can’t eat metal”  
“Oh.” That wasn’t as cool as he’d hoped.  
“Any other reason you’re here? Your appointment isn’t for a while yet.” He leaned forward onto the desk and did his best to give a charming smile.  
“Maybe I just came here to talk to you. Is that a crime?” It was a little hard to tell in this lighting, but he could swear she was blushing. Maybe it was from sheer annoyance.  
“I guess not. Don’t lean on my desk though. My dad wants to keep it nice and you’re pretty dirty. ” He straightened up and cleared his throat, suddenly embarrassed. He stepped back a little, and looked past Kikyo to the doorframe behind her. There wasn’t an actual door, but there was a curtain acting as a separator. It seemed darker deeper in the shop.  
“So, um,” He searched for something to say. “I heard you had sisters?”  
“Yep.”  
“What’re they like?”  
“Nope.”  
“What do you mean, nope?” He squinted at her, confused and a little exasperated. Oh, how the tables had turned.  
“I mean, no. I’m not gonna tell you about my sisters.”  
“Why not?” It had been going so good just a few moments ago.  
“Because I’m not gonna tell you about me, unless you tell me something about you.” _Oh my god._ Just knowing his name was too much information. He could just make something up, but he’d rather not lie to her.  
“Alright, fine. Silvano isn’t my real name.” He could play this game.  
“Really? What is it.” She tilted her head a little.  
“Nope. Tell me about your sisters.” She pursed her lips and regarded him cooly for a moment.  
“Okay, one thing. They’re just half-sisters. Your turn.” _Potentially useful._  
“My name is actually Silva.” He was surprised by the sudden burst of laughter from Kikyo.  
“You tried to come up with a fake name, and the best you could do was _Silvano?” Well when you put it like that._ He was grinning sheepishly despite himself.  
“Oh yeah, haha. Laugh it up. You go now.” Her smile was wide, and she was very poorly stifling her giggles.  
“Sure thing, _Silva._ My sisters weren’t born here. Since I know you’re wondering, I was born in Meteor.” _Oh now that was useful._ Too bad information wasn’t his focus anymore. Instead, he was thinking about how nice it sounded when she said his name. _Whoa, wait._ He’d only met this girl twice, he was a little too invested.  
“Silva? You have to tell me something now. Unless you want to stop?”  
“No, I was just thinking. I’m the heir to my family's buisness.”  
“Oh really? What does your family do?” She was leaning forward on the desk now, eager to hear his answer.  
“Nope. You go.” Her face fell, her disappointment obvious. It almost made him feel bad. Almost.  
“My father is almost 60. Now tell me what you’re family does.” While that was certainly old for Meteor City, it wasn’t particularly relevant.  
“I can’t.”  
“Why not? Please?” She blinked up at him, trying painfully hard to be cute. She was cute, but that was besides the point. If he told his secrets to every girl he thought was cute, and interesting, and strong, he’d… well, he’d only have told her. _In those terms, it wouldn’t be so bad if she knew, right?_  
“I’ll tell you what my family does if you tell me what your family does.” He wasn’t totally sure about this, but he’d rather not wait any longer than he had to. He needed to know what his appointment was for by yesterday.  
“Deal. My family repairs things.“  
“Not what I meant. What _exactly_ does your family repair.” She stared at him incredulously.  
“You made an appointment. You don’t even know what we do?”  
“It sounds bad when you say it like that. But yes, that’s what I did.” She was staring at him again, mouth agape.  
“Are uou trying to catch flies? Or, er, sand worm things?”  
“No, I just. I mean. You _didn’t know?_ ”  
“Yes, you’ve said that. Just tell me.” He added hastily, “please.”  
“We repair, um, special things. I’d figured you knew, since your, uh,” She gestured at his body, “since your aura looks likes that.” _What. What the fuck._  
“You can see nen?” Suddenly she had shifted from interesting to incredibly dangerous. So, _much_ more interesting.  
“Well of course. I can’t use it if that’s what you’re interested in. Dad thinks I’m too young.” _Oh, so not too dangerous. But very, very interesting._  
“You’re not.”  
“Not what?”  
“Too young. My parents taught me when I was 11.”  
“How old are you now?”  
“I’m 16.” Now for his part of the bargain. “I’m an assassin. That’s my family business.” Her eyes grew wide for a moment.  
“An assassin? Really?” He’d been apprehensive of her reaction, but he hadn’t expected this. She wasn’t just leaning forward now, she was practically standing up out of her chair. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth was open, just a little. She looked like someone had just promised her the world. In a way, someone had.  
“So you’ve traveled a lot then right? You’ve been all over the world?” He was a little taken aback at her enthusiasm.  
“Yeah, I suppose.”  
“I’ve never been outside of Meteor City. I only have this one book,” she tapped the cover of the volume from before. “What is it like? You have to tell me!”  
“I can certainly-“

“Kikyo!” A voice from inside the store called her name. Her head whipped around.  
“Coming!” She looked back at Silva. Even as she stood her hands lingered on the desk, her face conflicted. He smiled then, full and genuine.  
“I’ll come back tomorrow. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”  
Her face lit up then and she nodded, “thank you Silva!” She reached over the desk and grabbed his hand. “Really. I mean it.”  
“How could I not?” There was a moment of silence between them then. Unlike the several earlier, this one wasn’t awkward at all. It was almost intimate. She dropped his hand after a few moments before turning to leave. As she passed through the curtain she stopped one last time to look at him. She didn’t say anything this time, she just smiled once more and then disappeared through the door. 

He had been planning to search their store at night, but he could put it off a day or two. He could honestly care less about the store, so long as he could talk to Kikyo tomorrow. All he could think about was how it had felt when she grabbed his hand. Any chance of her death had left in that moment. That night he decided that she did know too much, and she would have to be dealt with. Looks like she’d just have to come home with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forget about the notes on the first one, I'm finishing this shit. This is WAY to fun to write to abandon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silva pops the big question, and doesn't exactly get the response he was looking for

He came back bright and early the next morning. He’d never been able to tell someone stories about being an assassin. Secrecy had always suited him just fine, but he found himself excited about the prospect. Maybe he was just excited to talk to Kikyo. He was still surprised at her reaction. He had anticipated fear, rejection, disgust even. Not the wide-eyed, unabashed excitement he’d been greeted with. It was almost disconcerting how excited she’d been. Not that he was complaining.

He didn’t hesitate to walk through the door this time, and was greeted with the sight of Kikyo, seated as she’d been the first time he’d arrived. She was deeply focused on the book before her, the same one from the other day. She absentmindedly wiped a lock of hair from her face, only for it to fall back where it had been before. He had never put much stock in how people wore their hair, but he found himself wondering what her’s would look like down. She was wearing it in a tight bun, exactly as the previous two times he’d seen her. It was hard to tell how long it was.  
“You sure do like to stare, huh?” He hadn’t noticed the soft thump of her book closing. She rested her chin in her hand as she regarded him.  
“I guess it’s just something about you.” She had liked this side of him yesterday. Perhaps she’d like it today as well.  
“It’s a step up from the hallway I suppose.” _Nope._  
“Yeah.” He fidgeted with a string on the side of his pants while averting his gaze. When he looked back up she was smiling.  
“You must be really good at your job.” He furrowed his brow.  
“I am. What made you think of it?”  
“I was going off your ability to kill a conversation.” Maybe he should reconsider this whole ‘not killing her’ thing.  
“Do you want to hear stories about my job or not?” Her posture didn’t shift, but something in her eyes lit up. Something sharp and calculating, something that should’ve been out of a place on a fourteen year old. He looked at her appraisingly, _it suits her._  
“You know that I do.” She looked deadly serious, all traces of humor gone from her expression. The sudden shift in atmosphere made him wary. Where had this come from? It was equal parts suspicious and exciting. If his father were here he would disapprove of his recklessness. Keyword, if.  
“I can tell you anything you want, BUT,” he pointed a finger at her, “you have to tell me a story about yourself in return.” A look of confusion flitted across her features.  
“A story about me? In case you’ve forgotten where I live,” she gestured vaguely at the ceiling, “it’s a garbage dump in the middle of a desert. Not much happens here. At least, nothing you’ve never seen before.”  
“The exact opposite, actually. Meteor City is fairly,” he searched for the right word. Something told him Kikyo wouldn’t appreciate her home being called a ‘disgusting mistake’. “Unique.”  
“Well there is something else…” She trailed off briefly, but quickly recomposed herself. “Regardless, a story for a story, yeah? Pretty much the same as yesterday?” He shrugged, “essentially.” She nodded once in affirmation.  
“Then you start.”

He quickly lost track of time. Three hours turned into four, turned into five, turned into six. Without a way to see outside, or even a clock, there was no real way to tell what time it was. Kikyo had better stories than she thought she did, though most were about her family. She had been enraptured by all of his stories, struck by even the smallest details. There were some things he had a hard time believing that even someone from Meteor City hadn’t seen. Grass was the biggest one.

“It does not! There’s no way!” She looked up at him in disbelief. “You’re messing with me.” He laughed deeply.  
“I assure you, snow is real, and it _does_ come from the sky.” A wry smile plastered on his face, he continued, “that wasn’t the point of the story though.”  
“It should’ve been.”  
“Well as I was saying, I was climbing the side of the building when-“  
“No, tell me more about snow.”  
“I thought it was rude to interrupt?”  
“It is. However,” she crossed her arms pointedly, “it is just as rude to keep a lady waiting.” This girl was unbelievable sometimes, but he’d long since decided this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.  
“Of course it is. What else would you like to know about snow?”  
She thought for a moment before asking, “What does it taste like?”  
“Nothing.”  
“Nothing?”  
“Nothing. It’s just frozen water.” She looked a little put out by the information.  
“What does it feel like when you touch it?”  
“It’s wet and it melts in your hands. Usually it’s powdery, but sometimes it’s heavy and slushy. The heavy stuff is good for packing.”  
“Packing what?” _Oh right._  
“Uh, itself I guess. It sticks to itself pretty well. You can dig out shelter underneath it, and it’s pretty sturdy. You can also make balls out of it, I guess.” Once, when he was a toddler, his father had made a snowball and thrown it at him. In his attempt to dodge it, he had caught it directly in the face. Apparently he had fallen over and cried, but she didn’t need to hear that story just yet. Or ever.  
“You’re so lucky,” she sighed dreamily. “I wish I could see,” she screwed her face up, “ _anything_ that isn’t this.” If ever a better chance were to present itself he would miss it.  
“You could see anything you wanted. Even snow.” She looked at him long and hard, searching for some hint that he was joking.  
“What do you mean?” She said it slowly, carefully. He knew he was treading on thin ice, but it was truly now or never.  
“Come home with me. We can go anywhere you want, see anything, do anything.” She was completely still, and there was neither sound nor movement for the next few moments.  
“Home? To Kukuroo mountain? To,” she took a deep breath, “to _live_ with you?”  
“Yes.” He nodded earnestly.  
“I,” she stared at her hands as she picked at her book cover, “I don’t think I can do that.” _Well shit._ This was not what he had expected.  
“Why not?” He barked his response at her, and it came out harsher than he’d intended.  
“It’s not that I don’t want to, but…” She took a deep breath, “I just, can’t.”  
“That’s not an answer.” HIs frustration bled through as anger. Her head snapped up and he could feel the annoyance in her words.  
“I said no. No is an answer. Is that hard to understand, Silva? Let me be more specific, I am not, and will never, be going home with you.” She stood up abruptly, tucked her book under her arm, and ducked under the curtain.  
“Wait, Kikyo!” He stepped forward and pushed the curtain aside, but she was already gone from view. Behind the curtain was a dark hallway branching in two directions. He briefly considered trying to find her, but decided against it. He was unlikely to find her if she didn’t want to be found, and she would probably only become more upset with him if he pursued. He put his hands around his mouth before giving a shout, “I’m sorry!”  
What was he sorry for? God knows. He had no idea what had made her so upset. The only thing he could think to do was return again the next day. Hopefully she would still want to speak with him. Even if she didn’t, he had plenty of time to convince her otherwise. He was no quitter after all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silva is extraordinarily less stupid than in previous chapters, and does not bungle this for once.

He returned the next day with a plan. He had a carefully thought out apology which he had been practicing all night. So long as she accepted it, and let him say the whole thing, he should be fine. After that the plan was more vague. He had just come on too strong the day before, he was sure of it. They would talk as they had the past few days, and he wouldn’t bring it up again. Not today anyways. 

He strode down the stairs and through the door with a purpose, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight before him. This… Was not Kikyo. This was an older girl who looked a remarkable amount like Kikyo. She sat behind the desk, eyeing him disinterestedly. This brought something important to the front of his mind, this girl’s eyes were not black. No, this girl’s eyes were pink.  
“Who are you?” _Where is Kikyo,_ is what he meant.  
“Sachiko Tanaka, do you have an appointment?” She kept that same bored look directed at him.  
“Yes, well, no but,” he was quite flustered by the sudden shift in plan. He took a moment to steady himself before continuing, “Yes, I do have an appointment. No, that is not why I’m here today.”  
“Oh.” Sachiko clicked her tongue disapprovingly, “you’re here for Kikyo, right?”  
“Yes, is she here?” He barely managed to keep the urgency out of his voice.  
“Pft, where else would she be?” _What did that mean?_ “Anyways,” she gestured dismissively at him, “you might as well leave now.”  
“Oh yeah? And why is that?” The challenge was obvious, but if she cared she didn’t show it.  
“Because she doesn’t want to talk to you.” _He’d figured as much._  
“Could you ask her?”  
“No.” He clenched his jaw. This one was worse than Kikyo.  
“Why not?”  
“Because I already know what she’ll say.”  
“Could you just tell her I’m here then?” His patience was quickly wearing thin.  
“No.” This was ridiculous. Briefly he considered trying to force Sachiko to do what he wanted. His chances of changing Kikyo’s mind were already slim, but if he hurt her sister he couldn’t be sure what would happen. Not that it wasn’t tempting.  
“Why. Not?”  
“I already told you.”  
“Fine.” He could play by her inane rules. He would just have to get Kikyo himself. He walked past the desk and pushed the curtain aside. Sachiko turned to look at him.  
“You can’t go in there.” He didn’t bother acknowledging her.  
“I figured as much,” he muttered. He then cleared his throat, before yelling as loud as he could muster, “KIKYO! I’M SORRY ABOUT TH-“  
“Stop that!” Sachiko was up and reaching for him then, but he easily shifted out of the way of her grasp. She wasn’t as fast as Kikyo. “What do you think you’re doing?!”  
“I had to tell her somehow.” Finally he had managed to strike a nerve. He didn’t try to conceal his smug expression.  
“You need to leave. Now.”  
“Hmmmm,” he pretended to be deep in thought, “nope.” Sachiko grit her teeth as they stood there in a stalemate. She glanced between him and the door, obviously weighing whether or not she could throw him out. She couldn’t, but he wasn’t sure what he’d do if she tried. Thankfully she decided against it, as she stepped behind the curtain.  
“Wait here.” She spat the words out at him, but he couldn’t care less. If she was getting Kikyo the rest didn’t matter much. He had no idea how long to expect, so he turned around and sat cross legged on the floor.

He waited about 45 minutes in all. He half expected Sachiko had just left him there. He glanced up as the curtain was pushed to the side, and to his surprise it was Kikyo. He scrambled to his feet, ready to give his prepared apology. Kikyo held a single hand up, stopping him. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again. She seemed to be mulling her words over in her mouth. Her silence was making him antsy. He had already been dreading this conversation, but _this_ was torture. Right as he was about to break the silence, she began to speak.  
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so upset with you yesterday.”  
_Well._ That wasn’t exactly what he’d been expecting. ‘Fuck you, get out of here’, maybe. He was dumbstruck as he searched for a response. He hoped she wouldn’t read too much into the ensuing silence. He, personally, had gotten used to their little silences. Their conversations were just awkward enough to have plenty of them, and just intriguing enough that he didn’t mind. He played his words out in his mind for a moment, before settling on something safe.  
“It’s okay, I’m sorry I was so pushy.” He wouldn’t press her for more information. Yet. Her expression was murky and he had no clue what she was thinking about. She chewed her lip, deep in thought.  
Eventually she said, “don’t you want to know _why_ I can’t go.”  
He shrugged, “I’d be lying if I said no.”  
“Then ask me.” This conversation was going nothing like how he had thought it would. He had painstakingly crafted every scenario he could imagine, but somehow she continued to catch him off guard. He hadn’t even considered that she might apologize to him. And now here she was, _asking_ him to pry.  
Hesitantly he inquired, “Kikyo, why can’t you go home with me?”  
“My father needs me here. And well, you know,” she tapped the corner of her eye, “these things.” _Ah, so there is something special about the eyes._  
“No, I actually don’t know anything about your eyes. You haven’t mentioned them before.” Of course he had wanted to ask. It seemed he always had a million questions for Kikyo. Every answer just gave way to more questions.  
“Oh, I haven’t?” She seemed genuinely surprised, “most people have asked by now.” _Of course they did._ He was consistently behind the curve with this girl.  
“I thought it might be rude,” he clarified.  
“Well, maybe it is. But,” she shrugged, “when you have black eyes you get used to it. Besides,” her lips quirked up slightly, “the fear of being rude has never stopped you before.” In light of the circumstances, he decided to ignore the jab. He needed to stay on her good side for the moment.  
“So the eyes then, what’s special about them?”  
“I’m not sure I would call them ‘special’. It makes them sound like a gift or something.” She signed, sharp and sudden. “I can’t go outside.” _Great, exactly what he’d wanted to hear. ‘Hi Silva, it’s been nice to get to know you, but I literally couldn’t leave my house if I wanted to.’_  
“Why not?” He could hazard a guess why, but he’d rather hear it from her.  
“They absorb too much sunlight. I can’t see anything, except for on the cloudiest days. Sometimes the moonlight is even too much.”  
“But the lightbulbs don’t bother you?” He asked, confused.  
“They do actually. It’s not too bad though, they just give me a headache.” He hadn’t really thought about the physiology of the black eyes before, although what she was saying made sense. However, to him, this was a completely nonsense problem. Money couldn’t fix everything, but this? It could fix this.  
“You know, we could just make you some sort of protective eyewear, or something.”  
“Oh, really?” She blinked rapidly in surprise, “That’s… No. I still can’t leave.” _Ah, yes. Her dad._  
“What does your dad need you here for?”  
“My father needs me here to teach me how to do repairs. I’m supposed to take over his business some day.” Now here was something he was familiar with. Familial obligation was something he knew _very_ well. Unfortunately, he hadn’t the slightest clue how to begin to convince her to abandon it.  
“You have two older sisters, what about them?” This was the only angle he could think to play.  
She shook her head, “no, they can’t. It has to be me.”  
“Why?”  
She drummed her fingers on the table absentmindedly, “I’m not really supposed to tell people that.”  
“I’m not really supposed to tell people I’m an assassin, but here we are.” She gave it a little more thought before checking behind the curtain to make sure no one was close enough to listen. Seemingly satisfied by the lack of eavesdroppers, she still gestured at Silva to come closer.  
She whispered in his ear conspiratorially, “Sachiko and Hana are both nen users, but they’re not the right kind.” He was more than a little perplexed by why this needed to be a secret, but before he could ask she continued. “They’re both specialists. My father’s repair technique is a combination of a transmuter and an enhancer skill. Neither of them have been able to manage it.”  
If he had still been playing by his original reconnaissance goal this would’ve been the jack pot. As it were, this was golden information. While marveling at his luck, suddenly something dawned on him.  
“That’s why he hasn’t taught you nen yet, right?” Kikyo squinted at him questioningly.  
“How is that related?” Silva sighed exasperatedly. _How was she missing this?_  
“He hasn’t taught you nen yet because he’s afraid you’ll be a specialist too.” The look of realization on her face was priceless. “Is your dad a transmuter or an enhancer?”  
Kikyo tilted her head slightly, “My father is a transmuter, why?”  
“Just wondered. I’m a transmuter too, and,” he grinned, “I think I have a solution to our problem.” Kikyo was obviously confused by all this, and it felt nice to not be the one floundering for once.  
“How so?”  
“I’ll just have to teach you nen. If you’re a transmuter, enhancer, emitter, or conjurer, I’ll leave and you’ll never have to worry about me again.” His odds were slim, but he had always liked a gamble. “But, if you’re a specialist or a manipulator…” he trailed off and waited for Kikyo to get the gist. The grin on his face was soon reflected on hers.  
“Then I couldn’t take over his business if I wanted to, and I _guess_ I’ll just have to leave with you.”  
“Exactly. I’ll come back tonight, do you think you could meet me outside?”  
“Silva Zoldyck,” she nodded, positively beaming from ear to ear, “you have yourself a deal.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silva teaches Kikyo to harness her nen enough to get some answers

He had staked out the entrance all day, carefully awaiting Kikyo’s exit. It wasn’t until the sun was long gone and the moon stood as a sliver in the sky that her head emerged. He quickly joined her, offering his hand. 

“Follow me.”   
“Where are we going?”  
“Somewhere more private. This’ll take a while.”   
“I’m not sure my father would appreciate me going out at night, alone, with a boy.”  
“We’re not doing anything improper. Yet.” 

She reached her hand over and smacked his arm. 

“You’re just teaching me nen.”  
“I didn’t suggest anything else. If your dad doesn’t want you to learn nen, then it’s improper. Unless,” he raised his eyebrows teasingly, “you’d rather do something else.”   
“You’re pretty brazen.”  
“We’re wasting time out here,” he jerked his head to the side, “lets get started.”

She took his hand, and he led her through the dark streets. He ducked through an alleyway, stepping through a crumbling building. The building was decrepit, but thankfully empty. The roof had long since fallen in, so nobody had taken refuge inside.  
Leading Kikyo through the debris, he stopped in a small clearing he had made earlier. 

“So,” Kikyo glanced around, taking in surroundings so unfamiliar, “how does this work.”   
“Well, if you can see it, you can use it.”   
“I… really? But my father-“  
“Your dad was lying. He just didn’t want you to learn.”  
“What do I do then?”   
“You just have to focus on keeping it in.”  
“Keeping it in?”  
“The energy all around you. Just close your eyes and focus on trying to keep it in.”  
“It can’t be that simple.”  
“It is. Just breath and focus. It might take you a while to get it though.” 

Kikyo took a deep breath, stilling herself. While she stood there, eyes closed, Silva glanced around and kept an eye out for any intruders. The minutes crept past, but there was no change from Kikyo. As the minutes turned into an hour, turned into two, Silva was more impressed she’d been trying the whole time. It was disappointing that nothing had happened, of course, but still, her stubbornness was noteworthy. Eventually he sat on a large piece of stone, watching her intently.

“It’s distracting when you stare at me.”   
“What does it matter? Your eyes are closed.”  
“I know that. It’s still bothering me.”  
“Then try harder and we can move on.”   
“I am trying.”   
“I know. I said try harder.” 

Her jaw clenched and she sat straighter. 

“How exactly can I focus harder.”  
“Just do it.”  
“You’re a terrible teacher.”   
“Beggars can’t be choosers.”  
“I didn’t beg. You offered.” 

She spat the words through her teeth, fingernails digging into the palms of her hands. As her frustration mounted her aura thickened, clinging to her bit by bit. 

“And if I hadn’t?”  
“My father would’ve taught me eventually.”   
“Eventually. Right now you’d be behind that gross desk.”  
“No. Right now, I would be sleeping, and the desk isn’t gross.”   
“Yes it is. Everything here is gross.”   
“I wouldn’t come into your home and insult it.”  
“Because my home isn’t disgusting and awful.”   
“It isn’t,” her hands shook from how hard she was clenching them, “awful. It is my home.”  
“A place can be both.”   
“Shut up.”   
“As though you could make me.” 

Her eyes flew open and she darted in his direction. He barely evaded a strike aimed straight for his sternum. She quickly redirected and he dodged a few additional blows. She kicked out and made connection with his shin, nearly tripping him. He stumbled, recomposing himself in an instant.

“Wait.”  
“Oh,” she glared at him, “not so confidant all of a sudden?”   
“No, just look.”  
“At what?”   
“Yourself.” 

She glanced down at her body, gasping quietly when she saw herself. Her aura stuck to her like a second skin. She held her hand up, turning it this way and that, marveling at her own aura.

“It’s cool right?”  
“What now?”   
“Focus harder.”

She picked up a rock and chucked it at his head. He ducked narrowly avoiding it. 

“I’m kidding. Normally we wait for this next step, but we don’t really have that kind of time.”  
“So what is it?”  
“Water divination.”  
“How does that work?”  
“You’ll see.”

He pushed aside a fallen concrete chunk over, revealing a cup of water he’d hidden underneath. The cup was plastic and the water was dingy, so he really hoped neither of them would have to taste it. He placed it in front of her and looked around for something to place inside of it.   
Finding a leaf, or even a blade of grass in here would’ve been miraculous. Instead he scrounged around until he found a shard of wood, dropping it in the cup and praying it would float. It bobbed on the surface, thankfully buoyant. 

“What do I do with this?”  
“Put your hands around it and focus harder.”   
“Are you going to take this seriously or not?”  
“I’m being serious right now.” 

She hovered her hands around the sides of the cup, staring intently at the cup. Silva waited anxiously, for the telling moment. The stick at the top moved lightly back and forth, motion so slight he could’ve imagined it. 

“Did you bump the cup with your hands?”  
“No. At least, I don’t think so. Why?”  
“Just keep trying.”  
“Would that be bad if I did?”  
“I said keep trying.” 

She huffed, but returned her attention to the cup. Sweat beaded at her brow, fatigue beginning to set in. Asking all this of her was a tall order, but they needed answers. Her aura began to waver, but the stick began to clearly turn.

“Is this what’s supposed to happen?”  
“Yes, it’s exactly what’s supposed to happen.”  
“What does it mean?”   
“Your father is about to be a very unhappy man.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At long last, the final chapter! Silva and Kikyo decide to leave together, saying goodbye to her family.

“I think you'll be pleased to know-” Silva put his hands on his hips, making his announcement with great pomp- “you, are a manipulator.”  
“You can tell that just from a cup of water?” Kikyo asked, incredulous.   
“It’s because you made the stick spin. An enhancer makes the volume increase, and transmuters change the taste. Manipulators move things I the water.”  
“Oh,” she wrinkled her nose in disgust, “then I’m really glad I wasn't a transmuter.”  
“That makes two of us.”   
“If you're a transmuter,” Kikyo picked herself up, brushing the dirt from her dress, “what does your water taste like?”   
“It's sort of hard to explain. I guess it's kind of… savory? Have you ever had aloe juice?”   
She nodded in response, “it's a pretty common plant around here.”   
“It tastes a lot like that. Maybe a little more on the bitter side.”   
“Interesting. Any idea why?”   
“Not really, but that's not important right now. You have to get packed.”   
“I- yes,” a smile settled on her face, although a sadness clung around her eyes, “I do. I have to say goodbye to my family as well.”  
“Oh,” he shuffled his feet awkwardly, “will that be difficult for you? I didn't even think about that.”  
“My sisters will be sad, I’m sure. But-” she trailed off, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. “I don't know how my father will take the news.”  
“You want to leave don't you?”   
“Of course I do. There's nothing for me here and there never will be.”  
“Then that's all that matters.” Silva placed his hands on Kikyo’s shoulders, looking her square in the eyes. “He cannot stop you from leaving. I won't let him.”  
“Thank you, Silva.” She placed her hands on his own, returning the intensity in his gaze. “For all of this.”   
“Don't thank me,” he laughed, “we haven't left yet.” 

They stood there for a moment, quiet and hopeful. Reassurance found in each other's presence. Then, all of a sudden, Silva realized just how close they'd become. He took a step back, removing his hands and shoving them in his pockets. Kikyo held her hands behind her back, rocking nervously on her heels. A blush was mirrored on both of their faces. 

“We, uh,” Silva refused to make eye contact, “should probably have a plan, or something. Something to say to your dad.”   
“I’ll just have to tell him the truth.” She chewed on the corner of her lip, “that I’m a manipulator, that I can't run his business, and that I'm leaving. With you.”   
“And your backup plan?”   
“That's you.”   
“Right, well,” Silva cleared his throat, “we should do that, then. We’re only wasting time at this point.”

She balled her fists in her skirt, obviously still tense from nerves. She turned away from him suddenly, climbing over rubble to head back towards the street. She seemed determined, walking with a purpose. He followed her out.   
The streets were still empty, the moon high as it transitioned into early morning. She made a bee line for her home, never once checking if Silva was still behind her. He stuck closely by her side. He found himself wondering what her father looked like. Itsuki Tanaka, did he share her eyes? He'd never even asked. A little too late for that now. 

A few minutes later found them out front of the stairwell, and she paused there. A powerful wind picked up, kicking dust and debris around them. Strands of hair whipped at her forehead. She pushed them back time and time again, anything to distract her from the immediate future.

“When we go inside,” he strained to hear, her voice mostly lost in the roaring wind, “wait in the lobby. I'll get my father to come outside to talk.”   
“Why?”  
“My house is a little labyrinthine. It'll be easier this way.” 

He nodded, and she led him down the stairs. She ran her hand along the tin wall of the hallway, memorizing its feel. She had spent her whole life dreaming of some other life, anywhere else. It'd always been more of a pipe dream. It was more exciting than scary, but it remained terrifying all the same.   
She opened the door, wood grain more familiar than her own face. Granted, she'd spent more time looking at the closed side, but still. The desk was empty as she'd left it. She put a hand on his arm to stop him, and then disappeared behind the curtain.

While he waited for her to reemerge, he considered how he might deal with her father. He was apparently quite skilled in nen, but that didn't speak to his fighting capabilities. Was he prepared for a battle? He'd have to be.  
No more than a few minutes later she returned, a patchwork bag slung over her shoulder. Her eyes were watery and red around the edges. She blinked the tears away, sniffling once. 

“My dad will join us in a moment.” She wiped the corner of her eye with her thumb, “he will be none too pleased.”   
“We expected that. How did your sisters take the news?”   
“They were… happy. I think.”  
“Happy for you?”  
“Maybe- probably not. Happy that I'll be gone. I don't think they care where.”  
“You'll be glad to leave the evil stepsisters behind, I imagine.”  
“They weren't evil. They weren't even mean, most of the time. My dad can be a little much sometimes, and they'll be free of that now.”  
“What does that mean?”  
“It had to do with my mom,” she waved her hand dismissively, “I don't wanna talk about it right now.”

Of course that was the only thing he could think of now. Rather than ask her a questions about such a sensitive topic, they both stood there in almost complete silence. Every few seconds was punctuated by another sniffle from Kikyo.   
They both went stiff when they heard footsteps down the hall. It was a chilly reminder of every uncomfortable conversation he'd ever had with his own father. He forced his face into a stoic mask, his go-to response for the creeping anxiety. He felt a warmth pulling at his wrist, and furrowed his brow when he realized it was her hand. Silva relaxed his balled fist, and she slipped her hand into his. He squeezed it in a manner he hoped was reassuring. The curtain shifted, and a slight figure stepped out from behind it.

Silva was struck by his very normal this man looked. He hadn't realized how much he'd built up this moment. In front of him stood a lean man with a head of gray hair and deep brown eyes. He had deep wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, far more than would be expected on a man his age. His had not been an easy life. The slump of his shoulders and the unnatural pallor of his skin spoke to long hours spent inside.  
The man, Itsuki, regarded them both coolly, clearly sizing Silva up. For several tense moments nobody spoke. He was less intimidating in person than concept, Silva easily standing five inches taller than him.

“So,” Itsuki’s voice was raspy and deep, “you're the boy here to steal my daughter.”   
“I-“ one icy glare from Itsuki was enough to shut his mouth.   
“No excuses. I don't need them. If you want her so badly, take her. I won't fight either of you ungrateful children on this.”   
“Dad-“  
“No.” The word was laced venom, intended with a bite. “No excuses. No daughter of mine would abandon me for a boy she barely knows. How dare you, both of you.”  
“I didn't do anything wrong,” Kikyo spoke franticly, “this would've happened eventually. Why would I-“  
“Why would you stay? Why would you stay with your family who has fed, clothed, and provided for you your whole life? You've had an easy life, so much better than anyone else in this disgusting fucking city. You're a terrible, ungrateful child. Both of you are.”   
“Look,” Silva stepped forward, equal parts protective and threatening, “she's leaving. You don't know when, or if, you'll see your daughter again. Is this really how you want this to go?”

 

“And you're arrogant too, I think I missed that. I wasn't trying to stop her.” Itsuki laughed bitterly. “If this is what you want, well,” he turned away from them, “you're as dead to me as your mother.”

Tears welled in her eyes again, but she set her jaw against them. Her father disappeared back into the house, and she made to bolt after him. Silva tightened his grip on her hand, yanking her back. She struggled against him for a moment, relaxing when she took a deep, shaky breath.

“Are you okay?”  
“How could you ask me that after- after that? After what he just said to me. I'm not doing anything wrong! Doesn't he want me to be happy? How could he-“ her voice acquired a hysterical edge- “never mind. This was all- he was- there.”  
She gathered herself, standing tall and straight, lips trembling to hold in sobs. She whirled on her heel, walking as quickly as possible towards the outside. Silva was nearly jogging to keep up with her. She walked out onto the open street, picking a direction at random and running.

He was only now fully appreciating how fast she was, struggling to keep up. It was clear she didn't know where she was going, weaving in and out of alleys. She didn't stop until she ran down a dead end. She turned away from the wall in front of her, running straight into Silva’s chest.  
The sobs came out then, with her face buried in Silva’s shirt. Her wails were muffled and ragged, her nails digging into the soft fabric. He stood there, stiff, unsure of how to comfort her, or if he even should. His arms stuck out, frozen in mid air.  
He'd never offered anyone comfort in his entire life. Yet the situation demanded it. Slowly, he let his hands rest on her back, rubbing gentle circles. It was minutes before she settled, silent tears and quiet sniffles again. 

“Are you… okay, now?”  
“I will be.” She laughed hysterically, not bothering to wipe the tear stains on her cheeks. “The next time I see my- that man, I'll be killing him.”  
“You'll be in the right field for it, I guess.” He was disturbed by the shift in mood, but delighted at her ambition. She would thrive by his side. “Instead of running nowhere, how about we leave? It's a long way to Kukuroo mountain.”  
“I’d be thrilled to be anywhere but here.” 

They separated for the sake of walking, Kikyo squinting against the rising sun. She walked practically blind for a time until she stumbled over a piece of trash. She caught herself before she hit the ground, arms flying out to counterbalance. 

“What was that?” Silva asked, concerned, “what happened?”  
“I can't see anything, it's too bright.”   
“Oh, right. Here,” he grabbed her hand, “just follow me, like earlier.”

She intertwined their fingers, holding his hand firmly.  
“I feel like I'll be doing a lot of that, from now on.”  
“Don't worry, I’ll take care of you. I swear.”  
“I think I've been saying this all the time, but thank you.”  
“Don't thank me anymore, I owe you at least this much.”  
“I feel indebted to you, though.”  
“That's because you haven't met my family yet. Take my word for it, stop saying thank you.”

She laughed, a refreshing sound. A light break from the suffocating past.

“I’ll make that decision when we get there. For now I’ll thank you all I want.”  
“You can't say I didn't try and stop you.”  
“I thank you for your efforts.”

She couldn't see his grimace, but she could imagine it perfectly well. She began to laugh again, an easy, hiccuping, giggle. By this time, the temperature had risen, the harsh sun baking the already bleached streets. The now familiar stench assaulted his nose. He focused solely on her laughter, blocking out as much other sensory information as possible.  
It was easier than he expected. It was the most pleasant distraction he could've asked for. For the first time in a long time, he was excited to go home. To actually have someone his age in the mansion. A friend. More, hopefully. Excited to feel young as he was. As they were. Excited for a life that had her in it.

Excitement would only carry for so long, before the expectations and the plans came together. For now, they were young and falling in love. That was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, I finally finished the first fic I ever wrote! Odd to say I wrote it about these two, who I hate as parents. Seriously, one of my most hated set of parents in any work of fiction. And yet, I wrote this. Set in a canon timeline, is it weird to think that barely 4 years post fic Illumi would be born? It weirds me out. I have other thoughts about how their marriage plays out in the long term, so feel free to shoot me a message on tumblr if you want to talk about any of that! It's the same as my Ao3


End file.
